


Drive Me Up a Wall!

by Commander



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Humor, one suggestive joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-17
Updated: 2007-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commander/pseuds/Commander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SpongeBob FINALLY gets his driver's license... no loopholes, no special terms, nothing! So why does he keep getting into accidents... in the exact same place each time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hold Your Seahorses

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I wanted to prove to myself that I could write an interesting, engaging SpongeBob fanfic in the style of the show and actually retain the humor. I think it was mostly a success. Heck, it still makes me laugh. :)
> 
> Hope it makes you laugh too! In the good way. ;)

Seven o'clock AM and all was well in Bikini Bottom…

_WHOOOOOOOOP!_

SpongeBob SquarePants jolted out of bed. "Today's going to be a great day, Gary, and do you know why?"

"Meow?" offered Gary tentatively.

"No, of course not!" laughed SpongeBob, pulling on some clothes, pressed to fit his square-shaped body. "Today's the day I'm going to get my driver's license!"

"Meow," reminded Gary, giving SpongeBob a slightly annoyed look.

"Oh, Gary, don't exaggerate!" said SpongeBob, frowning. "This will only be the eighty-_fifth _time, and you know it!"

"Meow," sighed the snail in defeat.

"You know what they say, eight-fifth time's the charm!" grinned SpongeBob.

"Meow…" Gary meowed sarcastically.

"Okay…" SpongeBob's smile began to fade. "Maybe you're right… yeah, it's supposed to be _third _time's the charm…"

The sponge walked down the stairs, much slower than he normally did each morning. "Gary," he said, as he reached the end of the stairs and turned into the kitchen, "do you… do you think eighty-five times is a bit more than most other people?"

Gary opened up a book to two pages in which the word **YES **was typed in obnoxiously huge letters.

SpongeBob gulped. "Well… who says I'm like most other people?" he suddenly asked defiantly. "I'm a sponge! And I'm square! And I'm… Bob! And besides, I'm a darn good cook! Want some blueberry pancakes, Gare-bear?"

"Meow!" cried Gary, licking his lips.

"I thought you would," said SpongeBob fondly. "Let's see… mix flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a mixing bowl, add egg, milk, and cooking oil, and last but not least, the blueberries!" As he was saying aloud the directions, SpongeBob was adding every ingredient at lightning speed. "Now, stir well and pour onto the griddle!"

"Meow," said Gary, gratefully.

"No problem," said SpongeBob, scratching Gary behind the eye stalks. "See, Gary, although it would be nice to actually own a car and be able to conveniently drive myself all the places I need to go every day, those are just luxuries! I have everything I really need… my loyal pet, my wonderful friends, my jellyfishing, a house of my own, a job, and… and my cooking!"

He smiled, although it was the half-smile of one lost in thought. Yes, he always had his cooking—even as a youngster, SpongeBob had spent most of his free time in his mother's kitchen, learning how to cook everything under the underwater sun. Heck, his favorite class in high school was home economics—which explained his lack of popularity during his school days. Well, actually, it was _one _of the factors which explained his lack of popularity.

SpongeBob sighed as he recalled his awkward high school years—which truthfully didn't actually take him back very far—as he flipped the pancakes over, ready to fry the other side. Always eager to please, SpongeBob was torn between making new friends or pursuing his so-called "uncoral" interests. Luckily, around this time his parents had gently reminded him that true friends will like and accept you no matter who you are, a saying that easily slips off the tongue but that is just as easily forgotten. And out of high school now, things were easier. People didn't laugh at his love of culinary arts anymore—in fact, many of the customers at the Krusty Krab sang his praises; some made it a point to only eat there the days SpongeBob worked. Sticking to his love of cooking had definitely been a wise one.

Now… if only he could _drive. _

That would be the final deciding factor in SpongeBob's inch to total, independent adulthood. What kind of adult couldn't drive? People still considered SpongeBob a kid! …Well, in a sense, he still _was _a kid. But getting a drivers license would change all that. Everyone would take him seriously _then!_

"Here you go, Gary, all finished!" said SpongeBob, scooping the pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate. Two pancakes were transferred to Gary's food bowl; the other two SpongeBob poured syrup over and began eating straight away. "Mmmm!" he said happily. "Nothing like a blueberry pancake a la SpongeBob!"

"Meow," agreed Gary between bites of pancake.

SpongeBob finished his pancakes in about five seconds. "Oh, I'd better go wash my hands now!" he exclaimed. "I can't drive a boat with sticky hands!"

"Meow," said Gary sarcastically.

SpongeBob turned a bit red with both anger and embarrassment, but said nothing. Gary's "meow" could be loosely translated as "Actually, maybe the syrup would help you hang onto the wheel for a change", and SpongeBob knew that, although Gary was being a bit difficult as he so often was, he was right. A good majority of SpongeBob's driving attempts had ended when the terrified sponge had abandoned the wheel and covered his eyes.

"But it's going to be different this time," SpongeBob said, more to himself than to Gary. "This time, I really know what I'm doing! This time I WON'T screw up!"

"Meow," sighed Gary doubtfully.

"You just wait and see!" cried SpongeBob defiantly, pointing an accusing finger at his pet snail. "I'll come back today with my driver's license, and then you'll see! You'll be eating your words! Here, let me get them for you!" SpongeBob pulled a "meow" out of the air and stuck it in the cupboard. "There. That's your dinner."

Gary sighed, but decided to say nothing this time.

"Well, so long, Gary! I'm off to take my driver's test—and PASS it this time! Don't chew the furniture!" SpongeBob gave Gary the quickest of pats behind the eyes and ran out the door—predictably chanting "I'm ready! I'm ready!" the entire way there.

…

"Alright, SpongeBob, let's get this over with… my insurance company refuses to cover this anymore," Mrs. Puff muttered under her breath.

"You won't have to worry about that anymore, Mrs. Puff," said SpongeBob, sounding perhaps a bit too sure of himself. "I am confident that this time I will not fail!"

"That's what you've said the last thirty times," sighed Mrs. Puff. "Just try not to crash it too badly this time…"

"But Mrs. Puff, I haven't crashed it the last fifteen times!" SpongeBob reminded his teacher.

"Oh… that's right…" Mrs. Puff tried to work down that small bit of hope—hope that would most likely be proven false—that SpongeBob was actually showing signs of improvement.

"Alright." SpongeBob took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He wasn't going to succeed if he was a nervous wreck like he normally was. He climbed into the driver's seat next to Mrs. Puff and, like he had earlier making pancakes, said the steps aloud to himself. "Put foot on brake… fasten seatbelt… put key in ignition… turn key… put it in drive…

"You're doing fine so far," said Mrs. Puff with a shaky smile.

"WHAT? OH NO! I'M SORRY MRS. PUFF!" SpongeBob screeched.

"No, no, you're doing fine!" Mrs. Puff cried in panic.

"Oh… yeah. I knew that," said SpongeBob abashedly.

Very slowly, SpongeBob let off on the brake. The boat inched forward.

"Very good, SpongeBob!"

"OH NO, I—I mean, yeah, thanks!" SpongeBob wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. _Focus, SpongeBob, you dummy! _he silently berated himself. _You're never going to pass this test if you're screaming in panic the entire time!_

Throughout the entire test, SpongeBob had to remind himself of that fact about seventeen times. His mind, screaming at him that he was doing something wrong, often DID cause him to do something wrong.

As usual.

At the end of the course (for, as SpongeBob had reminded Mrs. Puff, he rarely crashed the boat anymore), SpongeBob wrung his sweaty hands together in nervous apprehension and shame. He knew that he had made quite a few errors… again, as usual. Gary was right. SpongeBob was never going to pass this test!

Mrs. Puff, tallying up his score on her checklist, suddenly grew wide-eyed. "Oh my… SpongeBob…"

"I failed," mumbled SpongeBob.

"You… _passed."_

"I failed. I'm never going to pass this _**what did you say?"**_

SpongeBob's eyes grew twice as large as Mrs. Puff's were, as his teacher frantically re-added everything.

"I think… SpongeBob… it's true, it's really true! I didn't have to cheat or anything!" Mrs. Puff laughed, almost insanely. "You have the minimum amount of points to pass, but you've passed!"

SpongeBob, paralyzed with shock, fell out of the car, as immobile as a cardboard box.

Unfortunately, the car was still in drive… and a brick wall was two feet ahead of them.

The impact was not fast at all… but it still caused Mrs. Puff to blow up like a balloon.

"We'll overlook that," she muttered in her huge, blown-up voice.

…

Minutes later, SpongeBob had regained his mobility. With force.

"_I'M HERE FOR MY DRIVER'S LICENSE!" _he shouted at the top of his spongy lungs, causing everyone at the courthouse to turn around and stare.

"Come over here, young man," said a kindly fish at the driver's department. "Do you have your paperwork?"

"Right here right here right here right here right here!" SpongeBob babbled, bouncing up and down as if his knees were made of springs.

The fish flipped through the papers. "Good, everything seems to be here—"

"My license my license my license my license my license!"

"Hold your seahorses, kid," laughed the fish good-naturedly. "You've still got to take your eye exam—"

With a zip and a shot of bubbles, SpongeBob was staring into the eye device and firing off the letters at rapid speed. "B V D L K E I E I O Pi R squared…" He began to hesitate. "Uh… G… M… C?"

The fish gave SpongeBob a sad look. "I'm sorry… if you can't read that line, then I'm afraid we can't get you your license."

"O… H… N… O…" SpongeBob squeaked out.

"It's not the end of the world," said the fish. "Just go and get some glasses, then you can—"

"But I have glasses!" cried SpongeBob. "Except I only wear them for jellyfishing and sometimes for reading—"

"It seems to me that you might need to wear them for driving, too," said the fish. "Why don't you go home and get your glasses, and then come back here and—"

He stopped. In the time he had said that half of a thought, SpongeBob had zipped out of the room and suddenly reappeared, wearing his glasses.

The fish laughed. "You certainly are a determined little hunk of cheese! Go on, start at line three, where you had troubles."

"W P M F L A E I O U sometimes Y I'd like to buy a vowel!" cried SpongeBob, reading the rest of the letters with ease in about a second.

"Perfect, perfect!" smiled the fish. "Now fill this paper out, and we'll get your picture taken and get you your license."

"Done!" cried SpongeBob, handing the fish the form.

"How did you fill that out so fast?" asked the fish in shock.

"Fast writer," said SpongeBob, looking down at his writing hand—which was on fire.

"Alright. Go stand over there by that blue background and smile on the count of three… oh, never mind. You've got a perpetual smile on your face."

CLICK! The camera shot a picture of SpongeBob, still with a smile that took the corners of his mouth nearly to the top of his head.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Now just give me a minute and I'll have your license all printed out for you!"

"A minute?" SpongeBob marveled to himself as the fish went into a back room to print off SpongeBob's license. "After all these years of waiting and hoping, it would seem that waiting for just one more minute would be nothing… and yet… the anticipation!" he shouted out, again gaining the attention of everyone in the building (those who had not looked away at first, of course—SpongeBob's performance was so eccentric that many people had observed the entire scene with interest). "I don't know if I can stand it… that in less than one minute, I will finally own… MY DRIVER'S LICENSE!"

The fish poked his head out the doorway. "Hey, kid, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it looks like our printer is down. Would it be any trouble for you to come back tomorrow?"

SpongeBob's eyes fell out of his head. Then his nose. Then his mouth.

The fish laughed. "Just joking!" He whipped out a freshly-printed driver's license.

"Oh Neptune!" cried SpongeBob in awe, his face still on the floor.


	2. Morgan Nancy

"I can't believe I'm finally breaking into this!"

Once SpongeBob had put himself back together (literally), he had sprinted straight home, shouting out the news at the top of his lungs as he burst through his front door. Gary hadn't believed him, of course—he was even still skeptical when SpongeBob had shown him the license—but a quick examination by the intelligent snail convinced him that it was genuine.

Now, the sponge and his snail were gathered around a very large and heavy piggy bank. SpongeBob, holding a hammer, marveled at what he was about to do. "I've been putting in half of my minimum wage paycheck in here for ages now, only to break it open to buy a boat! And I can't believe that I'm actually going to use this money now for what I intended! Gary, please hold the piggy bank steady for me—"

"Meow," snapped Gary.

"I will _not _hit you," retorted SpongeBob. "I have very good aim."

Gary shook his head, remembering when SpongeBob had thrown a frisbee a few years ago. There was a reported sighting of it in Bhutan.

"Fine, scaredy-snail," said SpongeBob. "I'll hit it fine without you holding it. If I just slam down really hard and fast, then it'll break instantly!"

SMACK!

A hammerhead-sized hole was now embedded in SpongeBob's floor.

"Whoops," said SpongeBob, blushing. "Well, that wasn't too far off the mark…"

"Meow," muttered Gary, and he was right, of course—he had struck his hammer a good three feet away from the bank.

"Could have happened to anyone!" cried SpongeBob. "I'm just excited, that's all!" SMACK! Another hole, three feet in the opposite direction. SMACK! A hole in the wall. SMACK! "Ow! My foot!"

Gary sighed, took the hammer from SpongeBob, and with a crash of broken papier-mâché, the piggy bank shattered, revealing a small flood of coins and paper money.

"Waaa-HOOO!" cried SpongeBob, throwing his money in the air and throwing his head back as if he were enjoying a pleasant rainfall. "I'm going to go to the used boat lot, Gary, and buy whatever I can afford with this, drive around Bikini Bottom and show my boat to all my friends, then come back here and heat up that 'meow' of yours from this morning."

"Meow," sighed Gary, his tone of voice indicating that he'd hoped that SpongeBob had forgotten about that.

"I have the memory of an elephant, Gary. Whatever that is," added SpongeBob, scratching his head.

Gary made a trumpeting noise, sounding like a very convincing elephant.

"We'll get your sinus problem taken care of later, Gary," said SpongeBob, completely clueless. "In fact, that's the first thing I'll do—I'll drive to the pharmacy and buy you some medicine! What do you think of that?"

"Meow."

"Of course I need a boat first—and that's where I'm going! See you later, Gary!"

…

"Isn't she _beautiful?"_

Two hours later, SpongeBob had returned home, after buying a used boat, buying some medicine for Gary, going grocery shopping, stopping by the retirement home to say hi to Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy (Barnacle Boy threw him out about seventeen seconds after he walked in, so that hadn't taken very long), and driving around the park. Now he was back home, and he, along with Gary, Patrick, and Squidward, were looking at his new boat.

"How do you tell a girl boat from a boy?" asked Patrick.

"Looks like just the kind of boat you'd like, SpongeBob," muttered Squidward.

"Of course!" said SpongeBob, still in awe, his voice high and breathy. "Can you believe I was able afford it?"

"Yes," said Squidward. "Can I go back inside now?"

To be fair, SpongeBob's newly purchased mode of transportation wasn't as terrible as Squidward was making it seem. The boat was a very old model—probably older than SpongeBob—but still not old enough to warrant being in a museum. The paint, an odd blue color, was coming off around the wheels as well. Still, all in all, it drove alright and that was all that really mattered to SpongeBob.

"Don't you want to take a spin in her?" SpongeBob asked.

"I'd rather get the bubonic plague," Squidward said sharply. "Now unless you have a special tricycle to show me, can I get back to my slightly more interesting and far less insane life?"

SpongeBob laughed. "Your loss." As Squidward rolled his eyes and returned to his house, SpongeBob looked again at his boat. "She needs a name. What do you think I should call her, Patrick?"

SpongeBob's dim starfish friend was stooped down, looking under the boat. "Are you sure it's a girl? I think this doo-hickey here clearly signifies that it's a male."

"Hmm." SpongeBob thought about this. "I usually hear modes of transportation being referred to only as females, but I guess there must be males out there." The sponge pondered this. "I've got it!" he finally cried. "We can give it a name that's either male or female! Then, if we're wrong about its gender, it doesn't matter."

"How about Nancy?" asked Patrick.

"Patrick, Nancy's a girl's name," said SpongeBob.

"I know," said Patrick, looking irritated, "but it's also a girl's name!"

SpongeBob had learned to just ignore Patrick's nonsensical utterances. "How about Morgan?"

"I still like Nancy," sniffed Patrick.

SpongeBob sighed. "Look, why don't we name it 'Morgan Nancy'? Morgan is the first name, and Nancy is the middle name."

"Well, alright," said Patrick, although he still looked doubtful. "But if it turns out to be a girl boat, you'll have to change the 'Morgan'."

"Morgan can be a girl's name too," sighed SpongeBob. "Besides, if it's a _boy _boat, we're already in trouble by naming it 'Nancy'."

"Meow," sighed Gary.

"I'll tell you what, Patrick," said SpongeBob. "I'll go feed Gary, then you and I could go out to lunch somewhere in my new set of wheels!"

Patrick gasped. "You bought wheels? Where? Where? Why didn't you show me?"

"I mean these wheels!" laughed SpongeBob, indicating "Morgan Nancy" with a wave of his hand. "What do you say, shall we take a spin?"

"Spin! Alright!" Patrick fell on the ground and began to break-dance.

…

"This just seems so… _strange," _admitted SpongeBob. He and Patrick were in the boat, SpongeBob behind the wheel, and Patrick lounging in the shotgun seat. "Here I am, driving down the road in my boat, my very own boat… I feel like I'm breaking some sort of rule!"

"If you are, I had nothing to do with it!" cried Patrick.

"I'm not, it just seems…" SpongeBob thought for a bit. "I've never driven by myself before. It's just a strange feeling."

"But you're not by yourself!" smiled Patrick. "I'm here!"

"But you're not a parent, guardian, driving instructor, or other responsible adult," reminded SpongeBob. "You're just my friend."

"Well, if you want to split hairs…" sniffed Patrick.

SpongeBob sighed to himself. Patrick was his best friend in the whole world, but having a conversation with him could be difficult. He had a bad habit of taking innocent remarks and turning them into personal stabs. One could only even attempt to reason with him if he had at least one other person backing him up.

Which is one reason why SpongeBob was glad he had other friends.

"I have a great idea, Patrick!" he exclaimed.

"Me too!" cried Patrick.

"Let's hear yours first!" suggested SpongeBob.

"Alright! …I think you should keep driving!"

SpongeBob blinked. "Well, I was planning on it!"

"Oh boy! Hooray!" cried Patrick, clapping his hands.

"Now do you want to hear my idea?"

"Oh, if you insist…"

"We should ask Sandy if she wants to come with us! Because the more friends you bring along, the more fun things are!"

"That's a great idea!" said Patrick. "We could bring along this guy too!" He picked up a random fish who was walking by.

"Okay, but I don't know who he is," said SpongeBob.

"I don't either," shrugged Patrick.

"WOULD YOU PUT ME DOWN?" shrieked the fish.

"Oh, here we are!" cried SpongeBob in alarm, for they were at Sandy's treedome already. He slammed on the brakes, he and Patrick slammed into the windshield, and the random fish flew out of Patrick's hands.

"I can see my house from here!" they could hear him cry as he zoomed out of sight and hearing.

"Sorry," said SpongeBob, blushing. "I'm not the best at stopping just yet."

"I'll accept your apology when I can pull my face off of your windshield," said Patrick, showing an uncharacteristic display of large words. Then, as if to prove he was still his old mentally-challenged self, he added, "Horseshoes!"

SpongeBob put the boat in park and ran up to the treedome, opening the front door and standing in the small atrium between the watery world of his own and Sandy's own, dry habitat. Not planning on entering, he knocked on the door and pushed a button on the small speaker system. "Sandy, are you in there?"

He waited for a moment, and soon he got his answer. "Oh, howdy, SpongeBob. Y'all wanna come in?" Sandy asked in her thick but light-hearted Texas drawl.

"Not today, I was just wondering if you wanted to come out to lunch with me and Patrick?"

The intercom made a sound that was probably Sandy sighing. "Oh, I dunno SpongeBob, I kinda had plans…"

"You _kinda _had plans, or you _really _had plans?" SpongeBob asked.

"Well, only kinda…"

"Aw, come on, Sandy, you'll like it! Besides, I have a surprise…"

"A surprise? What kind of a surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise!" said SpongeBob in a sing-song voice.

Sandy laughed, and SpongeBob relaxed, knowing that he had convinced her. "Alright then. Just lemme get my suit on."

In a few moments, both SpongeBob and Sandy were outside. "So where's this surprise you done been talking about?" Sandy demanded.

SpongeBob giggled. Sandy couldn't see the boat—her back was to it. "Turn around!" he said.

"Huh?" asked Sandy.

"Turn around, bright eyes!" said SpogneBob, pushing Sandy so that she could see the boat.

"Well tan my fur!" cried Sandy. "You're driving now, SpongeBob? You got your license?"

SpongeBob pulled his license out of his pocket. "Convinced now?"

"Well, golly, SpongeBob! Congratulations!" Sandy took a second look at SpongeBob's vehicle, examining it more closely. "She looks like a decent li'l clunker, alright, looks like y'all can go just 'bout anywhere in her!" She frowned. "But why the Patrick cling on?"

"Patrick!" cried SpongeBob. "Why are you still on the windshield?"

"I can see my house from here!" cried Patrick.

Sandy and SpongeBob exchanged a glance.

"So where'd ya wanna go eat?" Sandy asked.


	3. Fortuitous Circumstances

With his newly earned driver's license, SpongeBob became the man… er, sponge… about town!

Okay, maybe not. Still, however, whenever he took ol' "Morgan Nancy" for a ride, people on the streets would wave at him—"Hey, SpongeBob, nice set of wheels!" SpongeBob was already fairly well-known throughout Bikini Bottom, but now he was gaining even more fame, as "that weird kid who keeps driving around in circles!"

SpongeBob didn't have to leave as early as he did for work, either. In fact, he could leave his house fifteen minutes later than he normally had back when he walked to work, and he still got to work an hour early, just like he always did! Without waking up any earlier, he could put in even _more _unpaid overtime, a fact that, when Mr. Krabs learned of it, caused the crustacean to kiss Morgan Nancy multiple times a day.

Another unforeseen consequence of getting a boat was that many of SpongeBob's friends would ask him for rides. This was usually Patrick, but on occasion Sandy would hitch a ride as well, and even Squidward got over his dislike of the boat to ride home with SpongeBob when their shifts ended at the same time. ("I suppose it does beat walking," he admitted begrudgingly to SpongeBob.)

So, for the time being, at least, SpongeBob's life and driving was going just swimmingly! But… could it last? Was there an accident waiting to happen, an accident that would cause SpongeBob untold grief and anguish, and would bestow monetary benefits on a villainous antagonist?

Are you crazy? Of COURSE that's all going to happen! What kind of a story would this be without it?

…

"You've got a one-track mind, you know that?"

Sheldon J. Plankton gave an irritated sigh in answer to his computer wife's accusation. Day after day he had to put up with her put downs… just because she was a computer didn't mean she knew _everything!_

"And do you know why?" Karen continued, pressing the matter.

"Please, Karen, I'm in no mood to—"

"Because you think that the only way you'll ever have a successful restaurant is with the Krabby Patty formula!"

"Well, it's certainly worked for Krabs!" Plankton spat out.

"You're looking at it the wrong way," insisted Karen. "The reason why the formula works for Krabs is because it's a unique gimmick! What you need _isn't _the same thing he has, but your _own _unique gimmick! Something that makes the Chum Bucket unique!"

"It's already got that!" cried Plankton. "The lowest customer rate in Bikini Bottom!"

"I meant something that will _bring in _customers, genius," sneered Karen.

Plankton threw up his arms in despair. "Come now, computer wife, what kind of gimmick could I come up with? A free toy with every Chum Burger? People still won't come!"

"How about that old jukebox you have in the back?" Karen suggested. "With every purchase, a customer would get a free song of their choice played!"

"That's preposterous," snapped Plankton. "Besides, even if that _were _a good idea, how would I get the word out? I have no money for advertising! I hardly even MAKE any money at all!"

"Advertisements aren't the only way to get an idea out in the general public. There's also word of mouth. You could go out, mention a free song of your choice with every meal, the people you tell will tell their friends, those friends will tell their friends, and before you know it—"

"People never listen to me," sighed Plankton. "There's no way I could get the word out to even one person! But oh, if only I could, by some convenient and fortuitous circumstance, have a customer walk into this very restaurant at this very moment! If only, by odd stroke of fate, an unintended visitor would stride into my eating establishment! If only—"

CRASH!

"That sounded fortuitous," remarked Karen.

…

A few minutes earlier…

SpongeBob and Patrick were in Morgan Nancy, driving to Hal's Hotdog Hut.

"I'm going to get a footlong with mustard," said SpongeBob, licking his lips.

"I'm going to get a yardlong, with chili!" said Patrick happily.

"You can eat a whole yardlong?" said SpongeBob in awe. "I can hardly make it halfway through a plain yardlong—chili would make it even tougher!"

"SpongeBob, you are talking to the champion hotdog eater! I once ate a whole three-yardlong with ketchup AND mustard! A yardlong's a piece of cake. That is, if that piece of cake tasted like a chilidog," added Patrick.

"Wow, Pat, that's impressive," said SpongeBob. "A footlong is all I have room for! Mmm, I can just taste it now—a warm hotdog, covered with mustard—perhaps some relish—along with a soft drink and a—"

CRASH!

"…fire hydrant?" Patrick finished dubiously.

"OH NO!" SpongeBob leapt out of his boat and to the bow, and gasped at the damage. His thoughts of his footlong hotdog had distracted him from paying attention to his driving, and he had hit a fire hydrant. The bow of his boat was crushed in.

"Tarter sauce," muttered Patrick. "I bet we'll never get to Hal's Hotdog Hut now."

A policeman appeared out of nowhere and started writing up a ticket. "License and registration please," he said curtly, already writing out a ticket.

As SpongeBob dumbly handed over his license and registration, Patrick asked the officer, "Is this going to take long?"

"Filling out all the paperwork, calling other officers, towing the boat if need be, it could take up to twenty minutes," said the policeman.

"But I'm hungry _now!" _Patrick complained.

The officer shrugged. "Well then, why don't you eat _there?"_

Both Patrick and SpongeBob looked at the building indicated: The Chum Bucket.

"Oh no, Patrick, you can't eat there!" said SpongeBob. "That's Plankton's restaurant!"

Patrick considered this. "So?"

"He's Mr. Krabs's biggest rival!"

"So?"

"My loyalty lies with the Krusty Krab, and so should yours!"

"No, SpongeBob LoyaltyPants, my loyalty lies with my _stomach!" _cried Patrick. "And I'm hungry and I'm going to eat here while you get licensed and registered!" With that, Patrick turned and walked towards the Chum Bucket.

"Pat, NO!" cried SpongeBob, reaching out to grab Patrick and pull him away, but the policeman stopped him.

"Sign here, please."

…

"Is there anything to eat in here?" Patrick hollered while entering the deserted restaurant. He was greeted by his echo.

"Cool!" cried Patrick, hearing his voice reverberate back to him. "Echo! THE RAIN IN SPAIN STAYS MAINLY—"

"A customer!" cried Plankton, leaping into the main dining room and behind the counter.

"Oh, Plankton. I'm ready to place my order. Order, order, order…" Patrick said, needlessly creating a double-echo.

"Patrick?" cried Plankton, raising his eyebrow. "Oh well, I'll take what I can get… What will you have? The Chum Burger is our most ordered item—two people have tried it so far!"

Patrick thought about this for a moment. "Do you have hotdogs?"

Plankton blinked. "Well, yes…"

"With chili?" asked Patrick eagerly.

"If you want…"

"Great! I'll have a chilidog with a Dr. Kelp!"

"Alright… that'll be 2.95," said Plankton, still in shock that he was actually taking someone's order.

As Patrick laid his money on the counter, Karen shouted from the other room, "Plankton, don't forget the jukebox!"

"Oh, right!" Plankton ran into the back room and pulled out an old-fashioned jukebox. "I forgot to tell you, Patrick, with every order you get to play any old song of your choice—that is, if I have it on this jukebox!"

"Ooh, neato!" cried Patrick, clapping his hands in delight. "The Krusty Krab doesn't have a jukebox! In fact, they don't even have hotdogs!"

"Will you… eat here more often, then, because of the jukebox and the hotdogs?" asked Plankton incredulously.

"Yeah, sure! This place is great!" cried Patrick.

Plankton handed Patrick his order, and Patrick tore into his dog while at the same time flipping through the songs on the jukebox. "This isn't half bad, either! I'd say it's even better than Hal's Hotdog Hut!"

Plankton's mouth was slowly pulling up into a smile. "Now, Patrick, make sure you tell all your friends about the hotdogs and the jukebox… the more customers I have, the more songs I can put into the jukebox, the bigger I can make the hotdogs, and the closer I'll be to ruling the world! …Except that last one," he added hurriedly.

Patrick seemed to not notice Plankton's last diabolical comment. "I might not have to tell anyone," he laughed. "If SpongeBob's driving someone somewhere and he hits that fire hydrant again, the people he's driving with will find out for themselves!"

Plankton's eye grew wide. In a second, he zipped back to Karen.

"Karen… did you hear that?" he asked, astonished. "Patrick's here because SpongeBob is driving and gets into accidents! If I stage it so that he gets into accidents every time he drives by here, all of his passengers will come and eat here! And with Patrick spreading the word about my hotdogs, an item that the Krusty Krab lacks…"

"And the jukebox," added Karen.

"Yes, and the jukebox," said Plankton.

"My idea was a good one, admit it!"

"Yes, Karen, I do admit it. That simpleton Patrick thinks that the jukebox is the best thing since sliced kelp! The rest of Bikini Bottom will likely think the same! And so, with the hotdogs, the jukebox, and SpongeBob's wrecks, I will drive business away from that tightwad Krabs, and—"

"I think you're forgetting something," interrupted Karen. "Two words. One is 'thank'. The other is—"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Karen," said Plankton distractedly.

"There are other ways of thanking me, you know," purred Karen.

Plankton tensed in horror. "What do you mean?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, come on, darling, it's been weeks! How about putting a disk in my hard drive? Just a quickie!"

"Oh, not now, Karen," sighed Plankton. "I have a headache."

"You _always _have a headache," sniffed Karen, irritated. "Why don't you ever think of what _I _want to do? You can't have a successful marriage without a certain level of intimacy—"

Karen fell silent—Plankton had pulled her cord. Of course, when he plugged her back in, she'd chew him out for hours, but Plankton would deal with that later. He was in no mood for her nagging right now—now was the time to celebrate!

Finally, for the first time in months, he had _customers!_


	4. A Coral Fluke

SpongeBob stood listlessly behind the grill at the Krusty Krab, looking as depressed as he ever could.

"SpongeBob, hurry up on those orders!" Squidward snapped at his station at the cash register. "We can't wait all day!"

"Coming," said SpongeBob sadly, flipping a few burgers. "How could I _already _have a bad driving record?" he said softly to himself.

Squidward overheard. "Well, SpongeBob," he said sarcastically, "did you ever think that, just maybe, your getting your driver's license was just a _fluke?"_

"That's not true!" cried SpongeBob defensively. "I passed that test fair and square!"

"I'm not saying you didn't," said Squidward, smiling and clearly enjoying messing with SpongeBob's head. "I'm just saying that maybe it was just a lucky accident when you actually passed… and in truth, you're still just as lousy of a driver as ever."

"No… no… NO!" cried SpongeBob, tearing at the sides of his head in agony.

"Yes, yes, yes!" retaliated Squidward. "Anytime you actually do something right, it's really nothing but an accident!"

"_NOOOOOOOO!" _SpongeBob screamed, flung his spatula at Squidward, and tore out of the building, leaving a SpongeBob-shaped hole in the wall.

There was a slight pause throughout the entire restaurant.

"Ow," Squidward finally muttered, pealing the spatula off of his face.

"_Squidward!" _Mr. Krabs, having heard SpongeBob's screams, barged his way out of his office. "What have I told yeh about sendin' SpongeBob crashing through the walls? It costs LOTS of money to repair them holes!"

Squidward shrugged, although he was still smirking. "What can I say, yanking on SpongeBob's chain adds joy to my otherwise mundane existence."

"But it subtracts money from mine!" shrieked Mr. Krabs. "Yank his chain on yer _own _time, or yer fired!"

"Yes sir," muttered Squidward, "I will refrain from any chain-yanking on company time."

Mr. Krabs continued to frown at the gap in the wall. "And while we're at it, who's going to do the cooking when SpongeBob's gone?"

"He'll be back soon enough," sighed Squidward. "Why not enjoy the peace and quiet for now?"

Mr. Krabs opened his mouth, probably to say something related to money, when the chimes of the clock interrupted him.

"Uh oh," sighed Squidward.

"Three… THREE THIRTY?" Mr. Krabs suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no! It can't be… not now!"

Squidward raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Mr. Krabs, I thought three-thirty was your favorite time of day because all the kids are out of school and come here for food!"

"Of course, you loony!" cried Mr. Krabs. "But do yeh realize that without our fry cook, THERE'LL BE NO FOOD FOR THEM ALL TO PAY FOR? We'll make no money at all today! WHERE'S THAT SPONGEBOB?"

The sound of the front door being flung open stopped Mr. Krabs's whining temporarily, and he spun around with a hopeful smile, apparently hoping for SpongeBob's return. His smile instantly faded, however, when he saw that it was not SpongeBob, nor was it a student there to buy junk food… although she _was _a student.

"Hiiiiiiiii Daddy!" Pearl Krabs said sweetly, but with the gleam in her eyes that indicated that she wanted something—namely money—from her old man.

Mr. Krabs clearly picked up on this tone. "Hello, Pearlie," he said nervously, wringing his claws. "What do yeh want?"

"Oh, Daddy," said Pearl, "I don't need a reason to come and visit you! Although, since you mentioned it… Could I borrow fifty dollars?"

"_**FIFTY DOLLARS?"**_

Mr. Krabs's shout was so loud that the roof of the Krusty Krab flew off, then crashed back down, a bit askew.

"We're short a fry cook, which means no more customers today, there's a sponge-shaped hole in the wall, and all _you _can think about is fifty dollars for your selfish needs?" cried Mr. Krabs, only a touch more composed.

"Don't forget about the bill you'll have to pay to fix that roof," remarked Squidward.

"I'm not payin' yeh t'make snarky comments, Squidward!" snapped Mr. Krabs.

"All I want the money for is for this totally coral skirt I saw at the mall yesterday!" said Pearl, glaring at her father. "Are you saying that you're going to deprave me of being the fashion queen just because your fry cook runs through walls?"

Mr. Krabs considered this for a moment. "Well… yes," he finally admitted.

Pearl began to whimper, the precursor to a sob-fest. Squidward pulled out an umbrella. "You… you… you don't _love meeeeeeee!" _Pearl finally wailed, huge tears spraying from her eyes.

"No, of course I love ya!" cried Mr. Krabs, desperately but fruitlessly trying to dodge Pearl's tears.

"No you don't!" Pearl insisted between her sobs. "If you did you'd understand how important this is to me!"

"Alright, I'm back," said a new voice, still sounding a bit down in the dumps.

"SpongeBob!" cried Mr. Krabs gratefully, grabbing the sponge by the arm and pulling him back towards the kitchen. "Get back in that kitchen and make money–I mean patties!"

"Yes, sir," said SpongeBob sadly.

"And don't yeh be blastin' through any more walls again—I don't care what Squidward tells yeh!" said Mr. Krabs.

"Well," sniffed Pearl, wiping away her last tears, "if what he said to you was anything like what Daddy just said to me, you've got a _perfectly good reason _to go running through walls."

"Now, Pearl—" Mr. Krabs began, clearly on the defensive, but SpongeBob cut him off.

"No, I have no reason to be running through walls at all!" he lamented. "Squidward's right! I got my driver's license purely by accident! I shouldn't own a boat at all!"

"Nice to see you've finally got some sense knocked into that cubed head of yours," muttered Squidward.

Pearl, however, looked awe-struck. "SpongeBob, did you say you have… a _boat?" _she whispered.

"Yes, but I _don't deserve it!" _cried SpongeBob dramatically.

The whale completely ignored SpongeBob's self-defeating comment. "Ooh, SpongeBob, do you know how totally coral you are now that you own a boat? Oh man, if you were in high school, you'd be so coral you'd have your own fanclub!"

"You haven't seen his boat yet," snapped Squidward. "You wouldn't think he's so coral if you saw the piece of junk he drives."

"C—_coral?" _breathed SpongeBob. "You really think I'm… _coral?"_

"Of course you are!" said Pearl. "Owning a mode of transportation makes someone automatically coral. That is, if that someone is under the age of twenty-five…"

"…_Coral?"_ SpongeBob asked again, hardly believing it. Never in his entire life had he been called "coral". A nerd? Oh Neptune, yes. A loser? More times than he could count. A weirdo? Hardly a day went by when he _didn't _hear that one.

But coral?

Never.

"You'll totally have to take me driving sometime," said Pearl. "Maybe to the mall." She shot a nasty look to her father. "Seeing as I probably _won't _be going there today." With that, she turned around and left the restaurant.

Again, there was silence in the restaurant for a few moments, as SpongeBob was still marveling to himself that someone actually considered him coral, Squidward was giving a bored, slightly irritated scowl, and Mr. Krabs was… well, he was…

He finally spun around and yelled at SpongeBob, _"Don't yeh even think about it, boy!" _then stormed back to his office, slamming the door behind him.

"Don't even think about what?" SpongeBob asked Squidward.

"Taking Pearl to the mall, I assume," shrugged Squidward. "Although I usually refrain from giving you good advise, I think you should do what he says. Dating the boss's daughter is never a good strategy."

"Dating?" asked SpongeBob, blinking. "I'm not dating her! I'm not even taking her anywhere!"

"Well, if you _do _take her somewhere in your 'totally coral' boat, then Krabs might think that you _do _want to date her," said Squidward.

"But I don't want to date her!" said SpongeBob.

Squidward smirked. "I wouldn't say that too loudly if I were you… Krabs might think that you don't think Pearl's _good enough."_

SpongeBob's eyes grew wide with confusion. "But if I'm not supposed to date her, but I'm also not supposed to act like I don't _want _to date her, then what do I do?"

"Avoid her," said Squidward. Quickly, he added, "Keep your distance, but don't _look _like you're trying to keep your distance."

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know! Walk casually! Now would you PLEASE fill those orders that you left unfilled back when you made that hole in the wall?"

"Oh… right."

…

"It's… it's actually… look… look at this chart…"

"I _am _looking at it," sighed Karen, sounding bored. "Revenue is going up. The only time you've probably ever seen a chart with an up arrow is in a movie."

"I… I'm actually making money!" cried Plankton. "And I'm not even doing anything diabolical to do that!"

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Karen asked.

Plankton frowned. "No… I actually feel this big diabolical gap. If I don't do something evil in the next few days, I might just snap!"

"Oh goodness, as if you haven't already?"

"Hush!" snapped Plankton. "Now," he said, talking more to himself than to his computer wife, "being evil has never been much of a problem for me, but to be evil now I'd have to find a way to do so that wouldn't drive away customers in the process. How, then, could I accomplish this?"

"How about staging accidents so that SpongeBob—or any other drivers coming by—will crash near your restaurant and come in for food?" said Karen, sounding, as usual, as if she was stating the blatantly obvious. "You know, the idea that _you _came up with."

"Oh… right," said Plankton, sounding a bit sheepish. "Jeez, are you programmed to show me up at every possible chance?"

"No, that's just part of my own personal charm, darling," said Karen sassily.

"Don't I know it," muttered Plankton.


	5. Dire Straits and Twists

"GARY, WHERE ARE OUR FOOD STAMPS?"

Gary sighed and made his way over to SpongeBob, who was holding the bill for his boat's repairs and blubbering like a baby. "It wasn't even that big of a crash, Gary! How could it cost this much? I make minimum wage—I can't afford this!"

"Meow," sighed Gary.

"What do you mean, I'm overreacting?" cried SpongeBob, glaring at Gary, his eyes literally on fire. "I'm nearly twenty years old and I live in a FRUIT, my boat is a CLUNKER, I flip PATTIES for a living, and I don't have enough money to fix a tiny little DENT in my boat! HOW CAN YOU SAY I'M OVERREACTING?"

SMACK! Gary hit SpongeBob over the head with a rather heavy book.

SpongeBob rubbed the side of his head. "Thanks, Gary… I needed that."

Gary smiled comfortingly and curled up next to SpongeBob, who put his arms around his pet and sighed. "But really, Gary, what can I do? I might have enough money to pay for this, but that means that we won't be eating for awhile."

"Meow?" offered Gary.

"Ask Mr. Krabs for a raise? You know that won't work. The last time I tried that he laughed for three weeks straight!"

"Meow?"

"I've asked my parents for so much money already. I can't be dependent on them—I'm an adult! Well, sort of…"

"Meow?"

SpongeBob blinked. "Sell back Morgan Nancy? Oh Gary… I couldn't do that. I'm already so attached to her."

There was silence.

"What, you're out of ideas?" SpongeBob snapped at Gary. "Oh, what am I doing, asking a _snail _for advice? I need to ask someone more intelligent, someone who is knowledgeable about the world and what makes it run!"

…

"Plant a penny into the ground, and it'll grow into a money tree!" cried Patrick excitedly.

SpongeBob raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that will work?"

"Of course!" Patrick hesitated for a moment. "You just have to water it sixty-three times a minute."

"But I don't have that kind of time!" cried SpongeBob.

Patrick shrugged. "Well then, I guess you're out of luck. Remember me in the bread line."

SpongeBob knew Patrick meant well, but his frustration at the situation he found himself in was bubbling over. "You ought to be a little more considerate of me, Patrick! It's _your _fault I'm in dire straits in the first place!"

"Why are you blaming _me?" _cried Patrick indignantly.

"If you hadn't been blabbing on about hotdogs, you wouldn't have distracted me and I wouldn't have crashed Morgan Nancy!"

"Well, I wouldn't have been thinking about hotdogs if you hadn't been _driving _me to Hal's Hotdog Hut!"

"He's got a point, you know!" Squidward hollered from his window. Both SpongeBob and Patrick spun around to his direction. "If you hadn't bought that stupid piece of junk in the first place, you would have never crashed it, _and _you'd still have the money that you wasted on it!"

SpongeBob's eyes darted back and forth from Squidward in his window to Patrick pouting in front of him. "You—you guys are my neighbors, my _friends! _You're supposed to care and help me!"

"That was never part of the contract," sneered Squidward.

"We signed a contract to be SpongeBob's friends?" Patrick asked, puzzled.

"If there had been contracts involved, I would have kept my pen far, far away," muttered Squidward.

"Well, your contracts are _void!" _screamed SpongeBob. "If they existed I'd rip them up and _eat _them! And feed the leftovers to Gary! Consider our friendship _over!_ Both of you!"

"I wasn't even aware it had _started!" _snapped Squidward, slamming his window.

Patrick was taking this worse than Squidward, however. "We're… we're not friends anymore?" he asked, his lower lip quivering.

"Yes, because _you _want it that way!" cried SpongeBob, pointing an accusing finger at the starfish. "You won't help me! Now if you'll excuse me…" He took a step towards Morgan Nancy.

Patrick's eyes grew wide. "You… like that boat _better _than us?"

His normal shade of pink exploded into a burning red.

"Uh oh," SpongeBob said.

"_**MORGAN NANCY MUST DIE!"**_

In an instant, SpongeBob was in Morgan Nancy and tearing away, probably breaking every driving law in the city.

…

Knowing that Patrick would be on the rage for the next couple hours or so, SpongeBob sought refuge in the home of his _other _friend, the next person he had to ask for help, and the only person in Bikini Bottom who could hold off an enraged Patrick.

"Don't worry, I ain't scared of Patrick," said Sandy, peering down at SpongeBob, who was hiding under her table. "Which is more than what can be said for some people…"

"Sandy, I've just lost two of my three best friends! You're my only hope!" whimpered SpongeBob. "You've got to help me before I end up in the poor house!"

Sandy grabbed SpongeBob and pulled him up from underneath the table. "Don't you worry, SpongeBob, I'll loan you money and you can jus' pay it back whenever you can. All y'all have to do is ask. But SpongeBob, don't you think you're…"

"_DON'T SAY IT!"_ shrieked SpongeBob.

"…overreacting a little bit?" Sandy finished. "I mean, it ain't as if you're gonna die or anythin'. Patrick and Squidward jus' want you to… well, _I _want you to be able to take care of yourself. Don't you want that too?"

"Yes," muttered SpongeBob. "They just acted as if they don't care."

"Y'all can't let a silly li'l thing like money tear apart your relationships!" said Sandy rationally. "You're gonna be fine. Here—" She grabbed her purse and pulled out a few bills. "Should this be enough?"

"Three hundred dollars?" cried SpongeBob. "Oh no, Sandy, I couldn't take this—"

"No, take it, I insist," said Sandy. "I trust you." She grinned. "And I also know that you trust what _I'll_ do if you forgetto pay me back."She struck a karate pose.

"Crystal clear, ma'am," said SpongeBob quickly, taking the money.

"If y'all need anything else, just lemme know," said Sandy. "And… apologize to Patrick and Squidward, will ya? I hate to see y'all mad at each other over such a silly little—"

"It's not silly!" cried SpongeBob. "My financial security is at stake!"

"No it ain't," said Sandy, pointing to the money in his hand.

"Oh, yeah," said SpongeBob sheepishly. "I guess I'd better go deposit this in my checking account so I can pay my bill."

"If y'all want some company, I'll go with ya," offered Sandy.

"If you want to," said SpongeBob, trying to sound bored by her offer. In reality, after all he had been through that day, companionship was just what he needed, and seeing as Patrick was probably off destroying things right now and Squidward _never _wanted to talk to him, Sandy was a veritable life-saver at that moment.

"Hey, no problem," smiled Sandy. "I been cooped up in my treedome for too long. I gotta get out in the wide open air… uh, ocean, and stretch my limbs." She pulled her suit on.

"I just hope I don't crash this time," murmured SpongeBob.

"Well, if you do…" Sandy placed her helmet over her head. "I'll be protected!"

…

"Alright, we're finally at the bank!"

SpongeBob's statement roused Sandy from her slumber. "…huh, we're there? Oh, congrats, SpongeBob. It only took ya half an hour."

"The bank's far away from your house," said SpongeBob defensively.

"It's ten blocks, SpongeBob. You were just driving at five miles per hour the entire way here, that's all."

"GRAMMA FINALLY MADE IT!" shrieked about a hundred voices of all the drivers who had gotten stuck behind SpongeBob.

"Aw, come on, I can't afford to drive recklessly!" cried SpongeBob.

Sandy sighed. "There's a mighty big difference between driving at a reasonable pace and driving recklessly."

"And I drove at a reasonable pace!"

Sandy sighed again, but tried to smile. "Well, SpongeBob, if you feel safe at that speed, then that's all that matters."

"You can stay in Morgan Nancy if you want," said SpongeBob as he climbed out of his boat. "This shouldn't take long, unless they have free samples of ice cream." He paused for a moment, and then, as if worried that everyone else would get to the (most likely non-existent) ice cream first, dashed into the bank in the blink of an eye.

"Poor kid," Sandy murmured to herself, before finally getting that smile out. "Oh well. He'll manage."

"Hey Sandy!"

Sandy turned to the direction of the voice. "Oh, howdy, Pearl! Y'all out for a walk?"

Pearl grabbed the fin of her teenaged fish friend and made her way over to the boat to talk to Sandy. "Yeah, Shelley and I were going to go to the mall. It _is _kind of pointless to go, however," she pouted. "Daddy won't give me any more advances on my allowance, so I still can't buy that skirt I wanted."

"Aw, shoot," said Sandy good-naturedly. "Y'all can't let that hamper you from good old-fashioned window shopping!"

"I don't want a window, I want a skirt," huffed Pearl.

"No, Pearl, what she means is—" Shelley began.

"I know what she means," interrupted Pearl testily. "And what's the point of shopping if you can't _buy _anything? I knew I should have swiped Daddy's credit card. And, uh, disguised myself as a boy and pretend that my name's Eugene," she added, blushing."

"Okay, all finished!" SpongeBob sang out, coming back outside. He froze upon seeing Pearl, however, remembering what Squidward had told him. "Oh, hi, Pearl. Hi, Pearl's friend. Well, Sandy, are you ready to go?"

"Hold it, SpongeBob!" cried Pearl, grinning. "Could you give Shelley and me a ride to the mall? I'd love to try out your set of wheels!"

SpongeBob felt his body freeze again. "Uh… I can't do that. Your dad told me—"

"Aw, fish paste on what Daddy says!" huffed Pearl. "All I'm asking is for a lift to the mall, nothing more! You wouldn't want me to _walk, _would you?" Her eyes grew wide. "What if I twisted my ankle? What would I tell Daddy then? That I hurt my poor delicate ankle because you refused to just drive me in the direction that you're going anyway…"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

SpongeBob gulped. "Alright, fine… but don't think this means I'm dating you!"

Pearl blinked. "Date you? I don't want to date you. I might like older men, but, yeesh… you're a geeky fry cook." She and Shelley got in the backseat.

"Aw, zip it, Pearl!" snapped Sandy. "SpongeBob's had a rough day today and you're not helping."

"Oh, that's alright," said SpongeBob, shrugging as he climbed into the driver's seat. "I've decided to just forget about my crushing financial difficulties that might mean the end of my way of living as I know it, and spend the whole day with a forced smile plastered on my face!" He turned and flashed a huge, forced grin at the girls, who all recoiled a bit in disgust. "Besides," added SpongeBob, his mouth returning to normal, "I'm not really that much older than you."

Pearl bit her lip. Weird… she had never really _thought _much about SpongeBob's age. It was something that didn't matter much to her—and it's not like she was in much contact with SpongeBob anyway. But now that he mentioned it, an overwhelming curiosity got the better of her.

"How old _are _you, then?"

SpongeBob hesitated.

"I'd like to know too," admitted Sandy. "I mean, I've known you this whole time and never even thought about it!"

"Yeah, I want to know too now," said Shelley, "even though this is the first time I've ever seen you!"

SpongeBob sighed as he turned the keys in the ignition. "Fine. I'm nineteen—but I'll be twenty in only a few months!"

Pearl gasped softly. "I never realized…"

"Realized what?" snapped SpongeBob. "What, do you think I'm just a _kid?"_

"You're only four years older than me," said Pearl, her voice still soft.

SpongeBob gulped. It _did _seem shocking when she put it that way.

"But, whatever," said Pearl suddenly, sounding again like her usual perky self. "It's not like I would date you or anything, because you're still a nerdy fry cook—"

"_Pearl!"_

"Hey, are you going to start driving or what?" Pearl asked, ignoring Sandy.

"I _am _driving," insisted SpongeBob. "Can't you tell?"

"Shoot, SpongeBob," sighed Sandy. "You can drive faster than five miles per hour. Really."

"I have to be careful!" cried SpongeBob.

"You dork!" screeched Pearl. "Do you think I have all day? Step on it!"

"Man, Pearl," muttered Shelley, folding her fins in front of her, "your friends are always such _losers. _Besides me," she added hurriedly.

Pearl leaned her massive head in to the front of the car. "SpongeBob, if you don't drive at the speed limit, I'll _scream!"_

SpongeBob gulped. "Uh…"

"I _will! _And I'll _hit _you!"

"Uh…"

"And I'll _cry."_

"Alright, alright!" cried SpongeBob, slamming his foot down on the pedal. The girls' heads were thrown back with a sudden fierceness. "Anything to stop you from flooding my boat!"

"SpongeBob, not _this _fast!" cried Sandy.

"My lips!" cried Shelley, her face getting sucked backwards.

"You really _are _going to get in an accident now," shrieked Pearl, "you moronic—"

CRASH!

This time, all the passengers flew _forward, _Shelley and Pearl hitting their heads on the headrests ahead of them, and SpongeBob and Sandy smacking into the airbags that suddenly inflated.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"Well," muttered Sandy, "at least we was all wearin' our seat belts…"

"_No!" _shrieked SpongeBob, leaping out of his boat and inspecting the damage. "Oh no—not again—I couldn't—" In despair, he flung his head back and shouted, in a very Darth Vader like voice, _"!"_

"This is _totally _uncoral," muttered Pearl. "Are you alright, Shelley?"

"I'm fine—it could have been a lot worse," said Shelley. "Still, though, I think I'll walk the rest of the way."

"I'm totally with you," muttered Pearl.

Sandy had jumped out too, to inspect the damage. "Cheer up, SpongeBob!" she said cheerfully. "The damage ain't so bad."

SpongeBob flopped back on his back, his arms still outstretched in a dramatic pose.

"We're all able to walk away from this, that's a good thing!"

No response from SpongeBob.

"Come on, SpongeBob, get up," said Sandy gently. "It ain't so bad. Come on."

"I can't walk all the way to the mall without having something to eat!" complained Pearl loudly.

Shelley shrugged. "Well, why don't we grab a bite to eat there?" she asked, pointing a little ways behind them.

Pearl and Sandy looked in the direction where Shelley was pointing—SpongeBob was still in rigor mortis on the ground.

"The Chum Bucket?" said Pearl in astonishment.

"Well ain't that dramatic irony," muttered Sandy.

SpongeBob immediately jumped up. _"The Chum Bucket?" _he shrieked. "But this is—" He pulled a magnifying glass out of nowhere and inspected what he had crashed into the first time… a fire hydrant. "This is exactly where I had my first accident!"

"The Chum Bucket…" Pearl rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Don't they have hotdogs?"

"I think so," said Shelley. "I also heard that there's a jukebox that you can play a free song on. Some homicidal starfish told me before he ran off yelling something about killing Morgan Nancy."

Pearl grinned maliciously. "Sounds good to me," she said. "Let's go in."

ZIP! SpongeBob was standing in Pearl's way, his arms held out as if he were barricading her. "Pearl Krabs, I'm ashamed of you! Don't you know what restaurant this is?"

"Of course I know," snapped Pearl. "What are you trying to say, SpongeDork? That since my dad owns a fast food restaurant I can _only _eat there? Why would I spend my money _there? _So he can just make _more _money and get more and more stingy and refuse to give _me _any? Daddy doesn't have a leash on me!"

"He did when he took you to Thrill Island," said SpongeBob. "I've seen pictures."

"I was six years old then!" shrieked Pearl. "But I'm not a child anymore! I can do things on my own! I think _you _would realize that," she added coldly. "Come on, Shelley."

"Right behind you," said Shelley. The two girls turned around, their noses in the air, and sauntered off to Plankton's restaurant.

SpongeBob spat out nonsensical words for a good minute before finally composing himself. "Sandy, don't you realize what they're doing?"

"Well, they ain't _really _doin' anything wrong," Sandy had to admit. "Pearl's right, you know. She can eat wherever she wants to."

"Oh, will her dad be mad at her!" cried SpongeBob. Devil horns suddenly appeared above his head, and he chuckled evilly. "I'm going to tell him, right now!"

Sandy sighed. "Sure. Y'all do that. Of course, telling him where she is will force you to tell him that you was givin' her a ride, and got in an accident."

SpongeBob's eyes shrunk about three sizes. "Ulp—!"

The door to the Chum Bucket suddenly opened, and a certain familiar pink starfish stepped out, munching on a chilidog. "Mm, chilidogs… too bad they don't have yardlongs," he lamented. He smiled as he looked outside, and his gaze rested upon…

His pink shade slowly began to resume the deep red shade from the last time SpongeBob had fled from him.

"Morgan… _Nancy…_ _**must… DIE!"**_

"_SHRIMP!" _shrieked SpongeBob, jumping in his boat and tearing off, creating a sonic boom. Patrick was right behind him.

Even in her suit, Sandy's fur was blown back.

"Shee-_oot," _she murmured. She stopped and stared at the ground suddenly. "Hey, what's this?"

On the road, right where SpongeBob's boat had been, were three large cardboard boxes, flattened from when SpongeBob had presumably hit them, knocking him off the road and into the fire hydrant.

Sandy scowled. "This smells fishier than a fish kitchen in July."


	6. Homicidal Maniacs Love Lollipops

Pearl Krabs opened the front door to her house as slowly as she could, being careful to keep it from squeaking and giving her away. She was home a few minutes later than her curfew—big whoop!—but what worried her more was that she had just been at the Chum Bucket again, and her dad would often freak out when, by smelling her, realize that she had been to a place that sells food that WASN'T the Krusty Krab. (She once spent a full ten minutes convincing him that she only went in the gas station to use the facilities, not buy food.)

Luckily, her dad didn't seem to be anywhere within earshot… or noseshot. Pearl grinned, as much in response to her escape along with her sense of being a rebel. She really wasn't doing anything wrong… but Daddy would _kill _her if he found out where she'd been! He wouldn't find out, of course, but the very "if" fact made it exciting anyway.

"Pearlie? Is that you?"

Pearl winced. Great, her father _was _here. And pretty soon—

Mr. Krabs, who had just entered the room, suddenly began sniffing the air. "I smell… what _is _that smell? It smells like food, but food I've never smelled before!" He glared at Pearl. "Where have ye been?"

"That's none of your business, shell-flint!" Pearl snapped.

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady!"

"Fine then! _That's none of your business, shell-flint!" _said Pearl, dropping her voice down about two octaves.

"That's better," said Mr. Krabs, nodding satisfactorily. "Now—" He pointed an accusing claw at Pearl. "Where were you eating? It's not a smell I recognize…" He sniffed again. "Actually… it smells like… like… _**PLANKTON!"**_

The lights flickered and a bolt of lightning illuminated the room on his last word, even though there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

"Well, of _course _I smell like Plankton!" huffed Pearl. "I've been eating at his restaurant for a couple of days now! The food's decent, and pretty cheap, too! Not like the prices at _your _place! …Daddy?"

Mr. Krabs had turned white. Then blue. Then purple. Then green and red plaid.

"Oh, look at the time!" said Pearl quickly. "I'd better get upstairs and work on my homework now!" She ran up the stairs to her room before her father had a chance to go postal on her and slammed the door in about two seconds.

But then, suddenly, she swung the door open to shout out, "SpongeBob was taking me driving and crashed by the Chum Bucket—that's why I started going there in the first place!"

She slammed the door again, leaned up against it with a grimace, and said softly, "Five, four, three, two, one…"

** _“SPOOOOOOOOOOOONGEBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOB!”_ ** _ **** _

…

Since neither SpongeBob nor Patrick had been seen for those couple of days (presumably they were still in homicidal chaser and terrified chasee mode), Sandy turned to their neighbor with her evidence of foul play.

"And I should care _why?" _asked Squidward, raising an eyebrow.

"I know you don't care about SpongeBob, but look at it as a bigger problem," said Sandy bluntly. "I think that someone's settin' up any driver who happened to be passin' along for disaster, not just SpongeBob!"

There was a pause.

"Again… and I should care _why?"_

"It could be _you _next time!"

"I don't have a boat."

"What if you did?"

"But I _don't."_

Sandy growled. "Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?"

Squidward looked honestly confused by that sentence. "There are other people besides myself?"

Sandy sighed. "Alright then, look at it _this _way. If we figure out what's goin' on here, y'all won't have to put up with SpongeBob's psychotic overreacting anymore."

"Oh," admitted Squidward softly. "That _would _be a plus."

"And all we need to do is ask SpongeBob about the details about both the accidents, and then we can go with him and take it to the proper authorities!"

Squidward blinked. "But where _is _SpongeBob?"

"I'm right here," a terrified, muffled voice squeaked from an unknown location.

"You're _where?" _asked Sandy, scanning the room in confusion.

"What are you doing in my house?" cried Squidward.

"Hiding from Patrick," SpongeBob whimpered, his whereabouts still unknown.

"SpongeBob, how many times do I have to tell ya, that there's nothing to be afraid of with Patrick?" said Sandy.

"Has Patrick ever done this to you?" cried SpongeBob.

A tiny pen drawer in Squidward's desk, no taller than about two inches, suddenly opened, and out flew SpongeBob's liver, stomach, and two fingers.

"Yeech," said Sandy and Squidward in unison, making faces of disgust.

"How did you get away from him?" asked Sandy.

"And where is he _now?" _asked Squidward.

"He stopped for a chilidog," said SpongeBob, finally peeking out from the drawer. He looked quite squished and uncomfortable, but twice as terrified. "So I decided to hide while I still could. …By the way, Sandy, where's Morgan Nancy?"

Sandy shrugged. "Right where you left her, I suppose."

"You didn't move her?" cried SpongeBob.

"SpongeBob, I ain't got the keys."

"But she was in the middle of the road!"

…

The tow truck driver sighed. "Why do I always get the ugly hunks of junk?"

…

"You might be having to picked up a towed boat, SpongeBob," muttered Squidward.

"I… CANNOT deal with this anymore!" On the word "cannot", SpongeBob tore out of the drawer, sending splinters of wood flying through the room. Both Sandy and Squidward ducked. "You're right, Squidward! I was never meant to have a boat at all! I was NEVER MEANT TO BE HAPPY! I'm going to hide in my house the rest of my life and write dark, depressing poetry!"

"I'd never have to see you again," said Squidward thoughtfully. "Sounds like a good idea to me!"

"_Everybody _has accidents, SpongeBob," sighed Sandy. "You ain't the first, and you won't be the last. And furthermore—"

The door opened, cutting her off. She, Squidward, and SpongeBob all slowly turned to the door.

It was Patrick.

"I heard the piteous scream of a traitorous friend," he growled.

"YIPE!" screamed SpongeBob.

"Patrick knows the definitions of the words 'piteous' and 'traitorous'?" Squidward asked in shock.

"Where's Morgan Nancy?" asked Patrick, still sounding homicidal.

"I don't know!" shrieked SpongeBob.

"_**WHERE'S MORGAN NANCY, YOU DOO-DOO HEAD?"**_

SMACK!

Before Patrick could rant and rave any more, Sandy had him pinned to the floor. "Ow! No! Let me go!" he wailed helplessly. Finally he began to sob like a two-year-old. _"I want my mooooommmmmmmmmmy!"_

"Stop being homicidal," snapped Sandy.

"But…" Patrick whimpered.

"If ya do, I'll give you a lollipop."

Patrick's face brightened. "Alright!"

Sandy let go of Patrick, who immediately jumped up and smiled at SpongeBob. "Hey, SpongeBob, buddy!" he said with a totally clueless smile. "How's it going?"

"Patrick, you really frighten me," said SpongeBob, looking only a notch or two more at ease.

"SpongeBob, since y'all seem able to talk coherently again, we need to know the details of your _first_ accident," said Sandy, getting back to the point.

"Why?" asked SpongeBob. "I'd rather not relive that, if that's perfectly alright with you!"

"She wants to compare it to your more recent accident," snapped Squidward rudely. "There might be similarities that could mean something!"

"…oh."

"There's somethin' mighty fishy about you getting into two accidents in the exact same place," said Sandy. "I know what happened the second time, 'cuz I was there. But what happened the first time?"

"Well, Patrick and I were going to Hal's Hotdog Hut… I was thinking about the footlong I was going to get… and I wasn't watching where I was going and I ran into the fire hydrant," said SpongeBob.

Squidward rolled his eyes. "Sandy, that sounds like it was completely SpongeBob's doing. I don't think there's any foul play at all here."

"Hal's Hotdog Hut?" cried Patrick. "Ooh, you shouldn't eat there. The Chum Bucket's dogs are way better!"

"_You're still eating there?" _SpongeBob shrieked. "You're a traitor and a—"

"The Chum Bucket _has _had a lot of customers lately," Sandy reflected. She frowned. "SpongeBob, the day you had your first accident, were there many people at the Chum Bucket?"

"No, hardly anyone," said SpongeBob. "The only person I saw was that _traitor _over there." He pointed at Patrick, scowling.

"Was that the first day you ate at the Chum Bucket, Patrick?" Sandy asked.

"Mmm, the Chum Bucket!" said Patrick, licking his lips. "That sounds good! I want a chilidog and a free song of my choice on the jukebox! I think I'll go there right now!"

Sandy barricaded the door with her body.

"When you went there the first time, was Plankton surprised to see you there?" she asked urgently.

"Let me go, I'm hungry!" cried Patrick.

"Did you tell him why you happened to be in the area in the first place?" asked Squidward, apparently surprising himself for actually caring about figuring this out.

"Well, yeah, I said that if SpongeBob kept driving people around and crashing his boat there, then he wouldn't need to worry about advertising—"

"I KNEW it!" cried Sandy.

"Plankton set you up!" cried Squidward. "Crafty thinking on his part, I must admit…"

"What are you saying?" SpongeBob asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Your second accident, the one I was there for, wasn't your fault at all!" Sandy hesitated. "Well, actually, it kinda _was. _But I'd bet my boots that it was Plankton who put all them boxes out in the road that made you crash!"

"But… but why would he do that?" asked SpongeBob.

"To get more people to eat at his place, genius!" cried Squidward.

"And it worked, too!" cried Sandy. "Pearl and her friend decided to eat there after your second accident, remember?"

"Wow, even Pearl's eating there?" Squidward remarked. "Her old man would have a fit if he found out."

Squidward's door suddenly flung open again. There was Mr. Krabs, completely on cue, seething with rage, flames bursting from his body.

Even Patrick could figure out that being in the room at that moment probably wasn't the best idea. "Uh, I'm gonna go to the Chum Bucket now!" he cried, zipping out of the door faster than you could say "avocado".

"…I think he found out," said Sandy nervously.

"_YOU POROUS SPAWN OF SATAN!" _Mr. Krabs hollered. _"YOU'VE TURNED ME OWN FLESH AND BLOOD AGAINST ME!"_

"Stop being homicidal… I'll give you a lollipop," said Sandy, trying to hide her fear.

Mr. Krabs immediately relaxed. "A lollipop? If it's free, I'll take it!"

SpongeBob and Squidward stared at each other for a second or two before both their jaws hit the floor with a clang.

"Y'all can't blame SpongeBob completely," said Sandy, quickly handing Mr. Krabs a bright red lollipop. "Plankton's made it so that he, or anyone else driving by the Chum Bucket, would get in an accident and since they're right by the restaurant, they'll want to eat there!"

Mr. Krabs considered this. "It still wouldn't have happened if you could drive _decently, _boy!" he yelled, pointing an accusing claw at SpongeBob.

"It wouldn't have happened if Plankton hadn't laid those boxes in the road either!" cried SpongeBob.

"Oh, would you two stop yelling?" Squidward shouted in frustration. "SpongeBob, isn't obvious what you should do now? You've got plenty of valid reasons to get an attorney involved here!"

"Sue the pants off of the little mollusk!" Mr. Krabs cried in agreement.

"But Mr. Krabs, Plankton doesn't _wear _pants," said SpongeBob.

"Alright, the antennae then! C'mon, me boy, I wanna get some money outta this!"

"I don't care about getting rich off of this… I just want enough money to get my boat back and fixed," said SpongeBob, with an apologetic shrug.

"Sue the heck out of him anyway," said Squidward. "Forget about being righteous. And if you don't sue him, _I _will, because of the misery you've caused me all this time because of his actions."

"And I'll sue him for stealin' me customers!" cried Mr. Krabs.

"And I'll sue him for…" Sandy paused, and her face fell. "I got nothin'," she said abashedly.

…

"_Daaaaaarling! _You shouldn't have!"

Plankton smiled at Karen's obvious delight (an emotion that she rarely showed) at his gift for her. "The computer wife of a business tycoon such as myself deserves nothing less," he said.

"Five extra gigs of hard drive space?" she cried. Plankton said nothing, merely continuing to smile and hold the small flash drive in his hands. "You _do _love me!"

"Anything to stop your nagging…" Plankton mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Ahem! I said, yes dear, you're ravishing!"

"_**PLANKTON!"**_

Four distinct voices shouted his name, causing Plankton to nearly drop his wife's blessed hard drive. SpongeBob, Sandy, Squidward, and Mr. Krabs had all burst into his office.

"Hey, you cretins, this is a private office!" cried Plankton. "You'll just have to wait and order out front like everyone else!"

"Everyone else who got here by your _trickery, _you porous spawn of Satan!" screamed SpongeBob.

"No, SpongeBob, that was _you," _sighed Mr. Krabs.

"The only reason you've got the number of customers that you do is because you sabotaged SpongeBob—and probably a lot of other people too!" cried Sandy. "And we got _proof _of that!"

"And you're going to _pay."_ SpongeBob's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And I want some of that money too!" cried Mr. Krabs.

"So do I!" cried Squidward.

"So do I, even though I ain't got a claim to it!" cried Sandy.

"But… but… but…" Plankton roared with anger and glared at Karen. "This was all _your _idea! Look what it's done to me!"

"_My _idea? _You're _the one who said that you needed to be diabolical!"

"You evil… little… creature!" SpongeBob spat out, apparently unable to think of anything else to call him.

"She _lies!" _Plankton spat out. "She's lying to you! Don't believe her!"

"Believe _this!" _Karen shrieked.

And suddenly, on her screen, was a video of Plankton saying, _"I actually feel this big diabolical gap. If I don't do something evil in the next few days, I might just snap!"_

"And that evil thing was making me crash my boat again!" shrieked SpongeBob.

"Which is something _you_ should pay for!" snapped Squidward to Plankton. "I'm getting sick of hearing SpongeBob bemoan about his financial situation!"

"How _dare _you serve me own daughter yer vile food?" Mr. Krabs spat out.

Patrick suddenly burst in the room. "Plankton! The jukebox is broken! I can't listen to my free song!"

_ **“AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!”** _ _ **** _

Plankton threw Karen's extra gigs of hard drive on the floor and ran screaming from the room (and building), leaving a tiny Plankton-shaped hole in the wall.

SpongeBob, Patrick, Sandy, Squidward, and Mr. Krabs all turned and looked at Karen.

"Don't look at me! I'm just the computer!"

…

A few weeks later…

"Hello, Krusty Crew!" Patrick called out cheerfully as he stepped into the restaurant.

An eager yellow face poked out from the kitchen window. "Hey, Patrick! Hey, Sandy!"

"Howdy, SpongeBob!" said Sandy with a wave.

"Are you barnacle brains going to order, or _what?" _sighed Squidward testily.

"Jus' two Krabby Patties will be fine," said Sandy.

"And a chilidog!" cried Patrick.

"We don't serve those," muttered Squidward, shooting Patrick a glare and ringing up their order.

"So SpongeBob, have ya'll got Morgan Nancy fixed up?" asked Sandy.

"Yep!" said SpongeBob, working on the patties and yet skillfully keeping eye contact with his friends at the same time. "Plankton's made all the payments and Morgan Nancy is mine again! …Now if only the suspension on my license were finished," he sighed.

"Don't worry," said Sandy. "They didn't give you a long one, did they? I mean, it weren't entirely your fault."

"No, just a couple more weeks and I'll be driving again," smiled SpongeBob.

"If you ask me, that's letting you off _easy," _muttered Squidward.

"I think that Plankton got let off easy," Sandy retorted. "All he had to do was pay for the damages to SpongeBob's boat. I think he should have gotten a harsher punishment."

"Oh ho ho, don't worry about that," laughed SpongeBob cryptically, pushing open the kitchen door with his foot and bringing Patrick and Sandy their now finished patties. "He's getting punished enough as it is…"

…

"…how _dare _you try to pin the blame on me—you'd blame me for _everything _if you could—you think my affections are automatically dispensed—me being your wife is a _privilege, _not a _right, _and buddy you've about lost that right—I can't believe you would treat me that way…"

Plankton pressed his hands against his ears (…well, where we can presume his ears are) and moaned helplessly.

"Here we go again."

THE END


End file.
